Amazon Bullying Hits Home #EPICVENT

Just copy/pasted off my FB page because I’m foaming at the mouth and honestly… not coherent right now.

Odds are pretty good I’m going to be kicked off Amazon and my author account forfeit. They lobbed a charge of review manipulation and threatened me without revealing any details nor offering any arbitration.

I’m pretty sure I can trace this to a review posted for a blog tour. I received no compensation, of course, just the book specifically for the review. No gifts or giveaways were offered at any time.

Y’all know me. Y’all know what I’m like when I’m pissed.
Well, I’m way past that point.

This is the email:


We understand that you may have manipulated product reviews. Authors on are not allowed to manipulate ratings, feedback, or reviews.

Violations of our policies may also violate state and federal laws, including the Federal Trade Commission Act. Amazon tries to maintain customer trust and provide the best possible shopping experience. For this reason, Amazon investigates if it learns that sellers, vendors, or others have attempted to manipulate reviews. It also investigates if it learns that third parties have offered reviews in exchange for compensation.

If this problem continues, we may not allow you to publish on

To learn more about this policy, please see our Customer Review Guidelines Page for Authors (…/customer-review-guidelines-faqs-fr…) and see our Anti-Manipulation Policy for Customer Reviews (


Seller Performance Team


Dear Sir or Madam:

I assure you I have not violated any of Amazon’s review policies. I have been a reviewer for many years, for all sorts of products. I have no idea why you have come to this conclusion but you are mistaken.
No reviews were exchanged for compensation at any time. I have no relationship with any of the authors for whom I write reviews, nor have I been involved in a book’s creation. All wording adheres to Amazon standards, including not revealing spoilers. All reviews are fair and honest assessments of a product’s quality. I have many times over met the $50 minimum requirement for Amazon purchases.

I take great pride in being a content provider and a loyal customer. I expect to be treated with consideration and respect. Threatening my standing in the Amazon community is the worst form of customer service and borders on abuse.



My feeling right now? Do it, just fucking do it. I am so fed up with their shit. They treat authors like slave labor, without rights or any way to arbitrate when unjustly and falsely accused of a crime or misdemeanor.

When did we fall back into the fucking DARK AGES?

Sorry folks… I’m wound up.

Send me some good thoughts if you have any to spare.



Posted in Amazon Bullying Hits Home #EPICVENT | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment

Varian Krylov’s The God of Jazz: Fugue, Concord #review #excerpt




goj-cover-600TITLE: The God of Jazz: Fugue, Concord

AUTHOR: Varian Krylov


LENGTH: 117,450 words

RELEASE DATE: September 16, 2016

BLURB: After years struggling to realize his dream of directing a feature film, on the final night of his fundraising campaign Godard is on the cusp of having everything he ever wanted. The man he loves is upstairs waiting for him, and he’s just a few dollars short of his GoFundYourself goal.

Then everything falls apart.

His personal and professional life in ruins, when his old nemesis from film school offers to fund his dream project if he’s willing to shoot it in Spain, Godard knows it’s a deal with the devil. But he also has nothing left to lose.

Among the labyrinthine streets of Barcelona’s Barrio Góthico, the city’s vibrant music scene, and the sun-gilt beaches of the Costa Brava, Godard begins making shooting his dream project and putting his life back together, largely under the domineering gaze and deft touch of Ángel, the god of jazz.

But Ángel is keeping a secret, and a deal with the devil always comes at a price.

Bienvenidos…” After a glance back at his band mates, the trumpet player fixed his intense gaze on the audience and welcomed us in a low, smoky voice. Almost instantly the crowd went quiet, like everyone there was desperate not to miss a syllable. Of course, the remaining crumbs of my high school education in Spanish didn’t get me past the first word, except I did catch their names as he introduced his bandmates. Jaume on the drums. Alistair on bass.

The stunner with the trumpet and the arresting eyes that were the color of Amaretto di Saronno in the sun, but almost black in the hard shadow cast by the spotlight hitting his striking, upward angled eyebrows, was Ángel. He shot a glance at the drummer, who set a rhythm, brushes hissing over the heads. The low thrum of the bass came in as an electric smile spread over Alistair’s handsome face. The tempo of the music echoed faintly in Ángel’s subtly swaying body for a few measures as he let the music lull us out of the hectic pace of our day, the frenetic energy of the crowd that had been bantering and calling for drinks and jockeying for places to sit or stand, into the soothing rhythm. Then he brought the horn to his lips and kissed our souls.

Sultry, thick and sweet, tinges of melancholy. The notes stretched and yawned, curled around us like smoke. Slipped into the gaps in our broken, rusted armor and soothed our wounds.

I felt almost ashamed, in the midst of that transcendental rapture, that I couldn’t look at Ángel without conjuring the memory of his naked body, lax and faintly sheened with sweat as his broad shoulders flexed when he’d shifted his weight. The taunting temptation of his bare ass. Impossible to stop trying to imagine what he would look like, standing alone on that stage, under those lights, looking down at me, naked. Picturing his cock hanging, limp. Wondering if, when hard, it would stand up straight, jut off at an angle, or stick out from his groin.

At some point I had stopped looking at the other two sharing his stage, and just stared at him. The slight inward slope of his narrow nose. The delicate bow shape of his upper lip, slightly prominent, overshadowing his narrower bottom lip. Wanting him, almost willing him to turn those intense eyes on me again. Would it feel like a touch, the way it had at the beach? Was he caressing every man and woman in the bar with that gaze? Were they all secretly quivering and warming under his stare?


Seldom has a story held me in such thrall that I simply could not put it down. From the set design to the characters who captured and held me without prejudice, from incredibly honest and incisive parsing of what it means to start over, even when your heart has shattered, to the sensual, full on bass notes of the rhythms of Barcelona, of love, of life… the author wove a web of such intricate design I was swept along, breathless.

The God of Jazz is a celebration of finding the courage to pursue a dream, of not locking out what the heart wants no matter how improbable or how difficult it may seem. Though both Godard and Ángel carry baggage into their budding relationship—and yes, offering barriers and what ifs along the way—there’s a subtext of hope and joy, of acceptance and shared understanding as two artists find their fulfillment in each other.

The narrative is lush and evocative, sensual and uplifting. The city, its people, its art are all part and parcel of this story of two men who redefine passion to suit themselves. Their stutter steps toward and away from each other, the roadblocks from Godard’s past, and the secrets Ángel holds close, made for a compelling read.

The writing is intelligent, the tone hopeful and uplifting, and the sense of place—of the beauty of a city whose heartbeat rests in its art and its history—second to none.

The God of Jazz: Fugue, Concord is a Five Star read and highly recommended.



Amazon US

Amazon UK

All Romance eBooks




Growing up near Los Angeles, I spent much of my time frolicking in the Pacific Ocean and penning angst-twisted poetry. Now I’m living in sunny Spain writing pathos-riddled fiction. Ironically, two of my favorite things are traveling, and swimming in the ocean, despite increasingly intense phobias of sharks and flying.

I’ve always loved the music and substance of words, always loved writing in well-worn notebooks by hand, tapping at the keys of the computer, and, of course, conjuring up stories.

And from my earliest memories, I’ve always been fascinated—maybe obsessed?—with sex and sexuality.

In my writing, sex is the medium, the expression, and the tool of discovery for my characters’ insecurities, the needs that drive them, the comfort they can’t live without, the joy and relish of life that makes each of them intense, strange, and alluring.

:: Facebook Page :: Twitter :: GR Page ::

Posted in Blog, Concord #review #excerpt, Varian Krylov's The God of Jazz: Fugue | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Is the drought over? #babysteps #amwriting

It’s been months, at least five long ones, since I immersed myself in writing another book. Part of the problem was an embarrassment of riches—five stories in WiP-stage, some 12-15K words along. I couldn’t seem to whip up enthusiasm to tackle any one of them.

crawfurd_hands_clasped11-723Part of the problem was a defeatist attitude built up over time, earned honestly when Amazon raped my review collection, Scribd kicked out my most downloaded titles in an effort to reduce their romance inventory, and sundry other publishing woes. As sales dropped during the summer doldrums, the rational sector in my brain suggested a hard look at ROI. I looked. Then I was sorry I did.

Writing and publishing, no matter how much we wish it wasn’t, is still a business. A canny businessman can’t keep investing in a losing venture over the long term. If a title doesn’t earn back at least the investment in editing, book cover and promotional costs, then eventually you have to fold your tent and look into other options. So I did.

In place of writing, I re-edited earlier titles, then bundled series into box sets. I put on my accountant hat and took a long, hard look at sales figures over time, brain-stormed with fellow authors in the same boat (falling or non-existent sales), and came to some conclusions.

Reality sucks. But doing nothing and watch a writing career tank simply isn’t in my wheelhouse. I decided to do something about it.

imagesAfter cherry-picking a variety of standalone titles and series, I withdrew them from wide distribution and went Kindle Select/Kindle Unlimited. Why? Because romance readers, especially MM romance readers, are voracious and will gobble up 10-20 or more books a month. They are also on a budget, ergo many subscribe to KU rather than Scribd because they can “read for free” unlimited numbers of romance titles instead of scrabbling for a limit of 3 per month from a severely truncated catalog in Scribd.

They are also notorious for not spending any more than they have to on an ebook purchase, with 99c the preferred price point. I was doing splendidly at 99c, but those readers weren’t following that breadcrumb trail to the other books in the series.

61pbbjioj3l-_sl256_Why should they. They have Kindles groaning under the weight of 99c box sets containing 10, 20, 30 or more titles. Plus, prices on independent titles change faster than the speed of light as authors hop from one sales strategy to another trying to get noticed. All a reader has to do is wait a few and eventually The Price is Right somewhere.

Then there are the freebies… And you already know my position on that marketing strategy. But they’re out there, in copious quantities. Authors even pay obscene amounts to middlemen to advertise free downloads in the desperate hope it will translate to sales for the backlist. History and current analyses by publishing pundits suggest this no longer pertains as a viable marketing ploy.

As for the sheer volume of stuff parked on our eReaders, I’m no better. I have >1000 UNREAD titles on my Kindle Fire. I am not going to live long enough to read all of them, let alone keep up with the 5-25 books being launched on a daily basis, just in the MM genre alone!

Anyhoo… back to KU and having 22 titles available for those euphemistic “free reads.” Books that had languished without a sale for months are suddenly being read. In the two days since placing the lot into KU, I’ve got 1162 confirmed pages read, and that’s without advertising.

Granted, I’m earning a pittance (0.0049c/page read), but it’s a pittance I didn’t have two days ago. And who knows, if those readers like one book, perhaps they’ll give others a try.

For now, I’ve done what I can to make some positive changes. Whether or not it continues, or falls flat, only time will tell.

You can find my Amazon titles HERE.


In the meantime, my Muse kicked me in my ample derriere and forced me to chose a WiP. I picked Thunder Basin (A Snowy Range Mystery).

Here’s a snippet from today’s scribblings:

Quinn stared at the slab, registering sharp, armor piercing flares, the watery hell of yet another ocular migraine wreaking havoc with his eyesight. Fingering the notebook, he tried to process the few details they’d been able to eek from the crime scene.

“You ready, Sheriff?” The voice was muffled, perfunctory, the man’s interest directed to the remains laid out on fourteen gauge stainless steel.

He grunted in reply and moved in closer. The GP-slash-coroner had done military time in just about every hellhole the Army had to offer. He’d learned his trade on the backs of political missteps and corporate greed. At the end of his twenty he’d finally cut loose and found refuge in the back of beyond, in Quinn’s one-horse town, delivering babies, tending to the infirm and detoxing the residents, including Quinn.

And, when necessary, prodding and poking at a corpse when cause of death wasn’t obvious. Like now.

Shaking off the twinge of embarrassment, Quinn asked, “Think it’s an OD, Doc?” There weren’t any track marks visible on the corpse’s flesh, but that didn’t mean much. The amount of shit hitting the rez lately offered all manner of ways for a man to obliviate into a higher state of consciousness.

“Won’t know until the tox screen comes back. And you know how they are. Cheyenne doesn’t give a rat’s ass…” He grimaced. “Sorry. Been a long day.”

Quinn waved his hand in the air, about to mutter, “Da nada,” but stopped short and waited while the undulations worked their way across his corneas, left-to-right. In the nanosecond before the next waterfall commenced, he took a long, hard look at the body.

Doc Paulsen glanced with curiosity at the Sheriff. “You okay, son? Looks like you seen a ghost.”

Wrinkling his brows, Quinn shook his head no, one sharp snap he instantly regretted. Mumbling, “Just another one of those damn rainbow displays,” he rubbed at his left eye and moved into position to see the body better.

“You sure that’s all, son?”

Quinn ignored the barb, though Doc had a legit reason for assuming the worst. In the five years he’d been servicing their area’s medical needs, the man had occasion, more than once, to pull Quinn up by the bootstraps, including incarcerating him in his own damn jail cell. It had been their little secret for a few months now, a fallback into a demon hell he’d not soon forget.

Shaking off the older man’s concern, Quinn said, “Third one since spring. Seem a little odd we got ourselves an epidemic of dead bodies suddenly?” Not just dead. Mysteriously, unexplainably dead. To Doc’s grimace, Quinn muttered, “I’ll make a call, see if I can shake something loose.”

“You sure you want to do that, boy?”

Quinn sucked air. No, he damn well wasn’t sure. He was already on the department’s radar, a department he’d left with his tail between his goddamn legs. A department he’d sacrificed his soul for.

And how had that worked out for you, boyo?

Doc didn’t know particulars, which kept them friends, but the man was too good at reading people not to know something dirty had gone down, something that had field stripped Quinn’s self-respect, leaving him a staggering poster boy for drowning his sorrows. He never asked. Quinn never offered. It made for an unsteady alliance shored up by a laughable professional relationship—two reprobates hiding out on a slab of prairie bookended by a truck stop at one end and a honkytonk saloon on the other. In the middle was a hardscrabble town of make do and just getting by.

Lancer, Wyoming. Last stop before heading north into the bowels of Thunder Basin National Grasslands. Hometown to nothing special. Unless you were dead. Then you got the royal treatment. Stainless steel. Scalpels. A weigh pan…

And a sheriff with shit for brains and a liver slowly dying of despair.


804 words today. It’s a start.

Peace and Happy Fall Equinox to y’all.


Posted in Is the drought over? #babysteps #amwriting | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments

I’m Gonna Call It: Boxing Days

It rained, yay! Just enough to drive the humidity sky high and my energy level into the pits.

What better time to tackle another box set, this time it’s The Ranch to Market Chronicles. I’m slogging through edits, because there are typos the gremlins deposited at some point in time, stuff everyone who has set eyes on these documents missed. It happens.

Today I’m on Book 2, Alpha Framed. Came across this section I particularly liked…

Tommy still wasn’t talking to me. At me… maybe. Around… certainly. Toss in reluctantly with a Molotov cocktail on top, and it made for an atmosphere dripping with fuck you, Coy Carruthers. That last bit I was down with. It’d been forever and a day since I’d been invited to partake of the pleasures of the harness and Tommy Dom’s warehouse of sensual delights.

So long, in fact, I’d healed to the point only fine white lines graced my shoulders, the part I could see doing a twist ’n shout in front of the bathroom mirror. Not so long ago that I could still recoil from the sting. No warning, just magic splitting skin, a paper cut salted. There was time to count intervals, to anticipate, though it was already too late—the hush of willow splitting atoms, air moving to the side at the speed of sound and closing onto a thin wisp of torture. Whiplash hurled waves to flash freeze the symbol, driving the succulent scent of my own desires deep into the fresh evidence of my failure.

The bobcat and coyote had squared off when I hadn’t been paying enough attention. Someone lost, someone lived, another left. Coyote faded, leaving me groveling at the altar of denial of service, panting my mea culpas because neither of my natures had understood the terms and conditions.

I still didn’t.


If y’all are curious, check them out here:









…or wait for the BOX SET and save some dinero.

In the meantime, wishing y’all peace and contentment.

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Together At Last: The Men of Crow Creek #Collection

THE CROW CREEK SERIES, together in one awesome collection!

pizap-com10-69246298586949711392477982983ASH & OAK brings together two men separated by a continent, united by a mutual love for horses. Oak Richards is shy & reclusive, Ash MacBryde is domineering & territorial. When they meet sparks fly, igniting a firestorm of passion. But that passion requires gentling before two men, so alike, yet so different, can learn when to submit and when to take control.


pizap-com13808449411051PULLING LEATHER returns to Crow Creek Ranch where Jess Carpenter, an ex-rodeo champion who’s given up on love meets Lucas Santiago, a young wrangler with some anger management issues. The attraction is intense and mutual. But there’s a complication. Jess has a history with Ash MacBryde. Their reunion ignites a firestorm of passion that threatens Jess’ feelings for Luc and Ash’s bond with his married partner, Oak. Four men vie to hold onto the things they hold dear. Riding for the time. Riding for the glory. And it takes only one misstep to disqualify any one of them from the competition… and from love.

pizap-com13812616389951STRAPPING ASH brings the Ash MacBryde-Oak Richards saga to a stunning climax. Three men set out on a perilous journey through traps set not just by their enemies but by their own tangled emotions. And the only way the domineering possessive man and the gentle reclusive soul can find their way back to Crow Creek Ranch means learning that… sometimes it takes two wrongs to make it right.


pizap-com10-82226723665371541384282890123SORTING WILL tells the story of Will Halliday who is determined to further his career and develop a specialized veterinary practice out west. Sam Turner is settled in his profession, fast-tracked for the ultimate advancement. To get there he has to bury his secrets so deeply that only a few know the truth. Ben Kincaid is the friend with benefits who holds the key when the three men are drawn together in a web of secrets, lies and promises made in the heat of the night.



pizap-com10-144921696279197931394496662126FLANKMAN delves into the wild and dangerous world of professional rodeo. Daniel Blake and Tristan Wells have been in a committed, but secret, relationship for nearly two years. A relationship that will be tested when Danny comes under scrutiny from rodeo management for alleged misconduct. He’s being set up and Tristan calls on Ben Kincaid from Crow Creek Ranch for help in ferreting out who has it in for them.


pizap-com14280642463281MENDING FENCES maps the journey of two men so different that luck and fate and karma bow in despair at releasing their foolhardy grip on their tortured pasts. That journey brings together fellow wayfarers who become more than they seem. Ben Kincaid is one such—forever in the background, beloved by all, loved by none. He’s spent a lifetime caring. He’d spend another trying to forget. Matt Reynolds was born and raised in the shadow of the Windys. Ranching is in his blood, as are ties to family and friends. Ties he broke when he made some poor choices, leaving that life behind and finding a place to hide where he kept his secret and his shame safe.



AMAZON    |    KOBO    |    INKTERA

Coming soon to B&N    |    SCRIBD    |    APPLE


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Why the Fashion Industry is Dying—Laughing at Salad & Cleavage Snacks

Kristen Lamb hits one out of the park!

Kristen Lamb's Blog


Today we are going to talk about something a bit different, but maybe this might inspire your fiction, because if the world changes guarantee you a writer was behind it😉 .

As I was perusing Facebook Friday evening, I came across an article that gave me an odd reaction. It made me want to stand and cheer, yet at the same time, rail at the heavens for the unfairness of it all. Tim Gunn from Project Runway leveled his crosshairs on the fashion industry. OMG I so love him for doing it, too.


A Plus-Sized Problem

According to Washington State University, there are over 100 million plus-sized women. The average woman now wears between a size 16 and a size 18 and yet plus sizes are almost never represented in fashion and if they are, the clothes are…ridiculous.

Most are passive-aggressive jabs at overweight women.

I am…

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Mending Fences on Sale & A Freshly Minted Box Set


Perhaps of all the Crow Creek stories, Mending Fences—the one that finally gives Ben Kincaid his HEA—is my favorite. After years of carrying a torch for Oak—from the time they were kids right up to when he joins Ash and Oak on Crow Creek Ranch—Ben finds his soulmate in Matt Reynolds.

It began as these things do, when the steps aren’t clear and the rhythm of the heart stutter-steps with possibilities and all the reasons why not.

It began as an eddy that grew into a maelstrom and a journey across the mind and soul’s boundaries—the journey of two men so different that luck and fate and karma bowed in despair at releasing their foolhardy grip on tortured pasts.

It continued with the exchange of a slip of paper and a promise, a promise forged in anger, a promise redeemed in love.

That journey, as all such do, passed signposts and bends in the road and well met fellow wayfarers who became more than they seemed.

Ben Kincaid was one such—forever in the background, beloved by all, loved by none. He’d spent a lifetime caring… He’d spend another trying to forget.

Matt Reynolds was born and raised in the shadow of the Windys. Ranching is in his blood, as are the ties to family and friends. Ties he broke when he made some poor choices, leaving that life behind and finding a place to hide where he kept his secret and his shame safe. But not all secrets remain hidden forever.

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000037_00020]Mending Fences (A Crow Creek Novel, Book 6), on sale $2.99

Facing down the wilderness is nothing compared to facing down your demons.

AMAZON    |    ARe/Ominlit    |    B&N    |    KOBO    |    APPLE




And not to be outdone, The Bad Boyfriends Series is now in a reformatted and re-edited (because she isn’t perfect, fancy that!) BOX SET for a can’t-beat-it-with-a-stick low price of $4.59!

165+K word count, 508 pages of heart-stopping action, melt-linoleum romance, and edge of your seat suspense.

The Bad Boyfriends Box Set

Gay suspense, crime, action-adventure, romance

Reviewer says: “Tinkers to Evans to Chance–What a Triple Play! The sex is phenomenal. You would be hard-pressed to find a better all-encompassing series than this one which needs absolutely no sequel to keep you interested. You are satisfied, if not totally out of breath.”~Bo, Amazon Review

box-set-bad-boyfriendsredoCurling Iron: Kane runs a fitness center by day. By night, he services a different clientele.

Pumping Iron: What does it take to bring a slow simmer to a rolling boil?

Jerking Iron: They’re about to find out why a man you can’t break is a man worth breaking…

AMAZON    |    ARe/Omnilit    |    APPLE    |    KOBO    |    SCRIBD    |    B&N


Wishing y’all peace and contentment!

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Lemons, Lemons Everywhere!

These last few weeks have been… difficult. Medical issues (the pneumonia which persisted for a loooong time), blood work, then follow-up visits to the doctor, and the big push for this ‘n that test, have a pill… No wait! have three, oh hell make it an even dozen.

Honest-to-pete, I’m not a damn petri dish where you can dump stuff to see what happens.

But there’s one thing I could get on board with because it’s been a recurring theme for years: under-performing thyroid. Every test I’ve had over the years has been “inconclusive” so it was all *wait and see*, but this time the doc agreed to a trial treatment. I’ve got a 12-week regimen to follow (one pill a week), then back for more blood work and a re-eval.

The other worrisome, and very strange thing, was a dangerously low level of Vit-D. Now, that was new. So I’m on mega-doses, along with a multi-vitamin to jack up all the other numbers. Okay, I’m good with that.

If we hit pay dirt with the above, I could see an end to the constant fatigue, the poor sleep patterns, aches and pains, muscle cramps, depression and MEMORY LOSS! That last is a big one. I’ve been “searching for words” for the last couple years, common words that suddenly go missing from my vocabulary and—as a writer—I’m here to tell you there’s nothing more frustrating than that!

And… and… and… I might LOSE WEIGHT <throws confetti in the air>

Meantime, back at the ranch, the home improvement chronicles continue. Two doors required replacement because the original install had been done on the cheap and sloppy as all get-out. And, as these things go, when you retro-fit anything, all manner of surprises and oh shits rear their ugly heads. So that’s been an interesting project over the last two weeks.

Now the fellows are back to work on the garage doors, because—once you paint something or install something new—the rest of the house starts to look a bit shabby in comparison.


And, I admit, I do so love men wearing tool belts, doing things around the property. Like… paving a small section in 90 degree weather, shirtless, hot and sweaty, using shovels to move the macadam, level it… straining…

Um *cough cough*… yes, poor guys, having to do that in the heat.

falling-off-cliff_2046653cMeantime, Amazon continues to strip reviews from my meager collection, leaving sales to tank. I’m not writing because… why bother? Why invest in stock photos, cover art, editors and promotional expenses when the market’s flooded with freebies and 99c wonders? At 35c a pop royalties, I won’t live long enough to recoup that investment.

So, instead, I’m working on putting a few titles into audiobook (again, not cheap) and hoping for the best.

I’m also migrating a few select titles to Kindle Unlimited. Why? I dunno, maybe… why not? <shrugs> It’s a 3-month commitment. I can go back to not selling everywhere else after that. Ho hum.

The newest KU offering is the Snowy Range Series:

The Eagle and the Fox—it’s a suspense-mystery with romantic elements, gay lit fic, but one thing it’s not… it ain’t no shifter tale! Honest. Folks over on Goodreads bitched because the cover suggested “shifters” although the blurb, the categories and the tags in no way, shape or form suggested shifters! But despite that…

Well, it’s Goodreads…

The other title is Timber Lake (no shifters, more suspense, a little heavier on romantic elements) where the cowboys dress like cowboys and not like metrosexuals communing with nature wearing Goretex rather than jeans ‘n chaps ‘n such (you know… authentic cowboy shit).

Yeah, yeah… another review that had me muttering… WTF?

Anyhoo, here’s the commercial portion of the program. While I’m popping pills, why not hie over to the Zon and grab a “free read,” leave a review (I love ’em all, even the ones that are “out there”), or buy it. I’m easy either way.


Now available in Kindle Unlimited: the Snowy Range Series.
#Gay #suspense #romance #western #contemporary
The Eagle and the Fox
Timber Lake

Wishing y’all peace and good health!

Posted in Lemons, Lemons Everywhere! | Tagged , , , | 3 Comments

A Melange of Musings

This expresses so many of my thoughts on all these topics! Well done.

Zen and the Art of Tightrope Walking

A Melange of Musings

September is a funny month; even now, more than thirty years since I left school, I can’t help feeling that “back to school” vibe that makes me want to buy a new pencil case and stock up on stationery. I did indulge in a very luscious Peter Pauper journal for a project that reflects the images on the cover; can’t recommend this range more highly. It combines great beauty, practicality with superb value; my only problem is that it can take me a while to bring myself to actually write in one, for fear of spoiling it with bad writing.

Which brings me on to my first musing: bad versus good writing. I’ve had to restrain myself from reading the several thousands of posts that come out on this topic, because it gets frustrating and upsetting. The majority of such articles are written for (and…

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Twenty Times Tempted Release Day! #Giveaway


“The best boxset of 2016!” 

Twenty bestselling authors have joined together to bring you this HUGE boxset for a bargain price and #FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

From sexy alpha males to dominating billionaires to gorgeous soldiers to cowboys with their wranglers hung low, there’s something for everyone. Including several never before released books, don’t miss your chance to snap up this boxset. We’ve even made it easy for you… with inside info from each author in the contents, it’s easy to choose which titles you’ll adore the most.

HEAs and full length stories are guaranteed in this set. Pick up one of the largest boxsets around, worth over $50 for a limited time only.




twentytimetemptedboxad (3)

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